An Emotional Rollercoaster
by perpetualpathology
Summary: This is a series of short one-shots set during the pregnancy of Sam and Tom's first child from start to end: 0, 10, 20, 30, 40 weeks and the beginning of labour. Prompted by x snow-pony x.


**Thank you very much x snow-pony x for the prompt!**

 **11/100**

* * *

 **An Emotional Rollercoaster**

 ** _0 Weeks_**

It was Sam and Tom's first full day off of work in a while and they were intending to make full use of it by taking it easy, catching up on sleep, watching TV shows that they'd missed when on shifts and then cooking a nice meal together. That was why Tom was confused when woke up in the morning, just as the sun was rising, and found his wife – who was wearing a white vest, pair of black shorts and a dark blue cardigan curled up in the armchair with the TV on at six o'clock in the morning.

"Sorry, is it too loud?" She apologised once she'd realised he was leaning in the doorway that led from the living space to their bedroom in the flat.

"No, I just… what're you doing up this early?" He frowned as he rubbed his weary eyes. "Is it nausea?" He asked excitedly, his sleepy voice replaced by a slightly higher pitched tone. "Can you not sleep? When can you take a pregnancy test? It's been a few weeks since we tried to conceive hasn't it?"

"Attempt number two failed." Sam spoke miserably.

"Ah… So _that's_ why you're up." Tom concluded. "It's alright, we've got plenty of time to try again. You never know, this might just be the beginning of your pregnancy. If this is day one, you'll be due in forty weeks–"

"You said that last month." Sam grumbled. "I'm not upset about it, I'm just _really_ uncomfortable at the moment." She explained as she fidgeted in an attempt to find a position that wasn't quite as gut-wrenching.

"How bad are the cramps?"

"It's been worse before but I can tell today isn't going to be a breeze." Sam replied.

"Come back to bed. We can cuddle for a while and I'll give you a back massage, see if that helps." He ordered softly as he picked up the TV remote and switched the device off.

"Given that my uterus is the source of pain, not my back, I don't think that'll help but I appreciate the offer." Sam said gratefully as she pulled her cardigan around her frame to keep her warm. "I could eat some porridge with banana and a sprinkle of brown sugar though." She hinted.

"Coming right up." Tom nodded eagerly before he walked through to the kitchen leaving Sam to smile to herself. She knew giving him something to do made him feel better because he felt like he was helping her – he hated just sitting by whilst she suffered, whether she was in pain or just ill. Little did she know, she was about to begin a long journey filled with torturous agony and suffering…

* * *

 ** _10 Weeks_**

"Sorry." Sam croaked as her head fell back on her pillow once more. She'd just thrown up into a cardboard sick bowl that Tom had held next to the bed as she'd rolled over onto her side.

"Don't be sorry at all, it's what I brought them home from work for. I don't want you spending all morning sitting in front of the toilet." Tom replied as he carefully placed the bowl in a small clinical waste disposable bag and sealed it shut.

"I just feel so weak." She confessed. Since the seventh week of her pregnancy, she'd been feeling terribly ill for most of the day. It was far worse in the mornings than in the evening but even then, she could only stomach dry crackers as she still wasn't feeling particularly great. She wasn't vomiting too often, maybe once or twice a day but it was the debilitating nausea that was the problem.

"Well, you're not getting much energy into you. Maybe tonight you could try some fruit or some juice. Whatever you're willing to try, I'll go out and get." Tom said softly as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Here." He handed her a glass of water which she had a few sips of to rinse her mouth out before she put it back on her bedside table and then curled up under the covers and closed her eyes. Tom gently stroked her hair for several minutes as she attempted to fall asleep but she knew even if she did doze off, she wouldn't be asleep for long. Instead she was thinking about what she wanted to eat out of all the foods in the world…

"Peanut butter."

"What?"

"I'll have peanut butter later."

"In a sandwich?"

"No. On its own." She replied adamantly.

"Right well I don't think we've got any so I'll have to buy some." Tom smirked.

"Make sure it's smooth, not crunchy."

"Okay." He nodded.

"And make sure it's organic."

"I will." Tom confirmed. "Since when do you like peanut butter?"

"Stop talking about food or I'm gonna throw up again." Sam groaned as she rolled over onto her front and buried her face in her pillow. Tom smiled as he rubbed his hand over her back.

"Shall I bring the laptop in here and set up a DVD for you?" He offered.

"I don't need the laptop, I think I can make it to the sofa." She stated and she took a deep breath before she mustered up the energy to sit up. "I'll need one of these though." She added as she grabbed a sick bowl from the stack of them on the floor. "What do you want to watch?"

"Cloudy with a chance of meatballs?" Tom suggested, to which he was elbowed in his side. "Alright, I was kidding." He smirked. "Supersize me?" He grinned.

"Tom!"

* * *

 ** _20 Weeks_**

"You're not going to fall asleep on me in there are you?" Tom smirked as Sam leant against him and rested her head on his shoulder. They were sitting on the chairs in the waiting room on the obstetrics ward as they waited to be seen for her anomaly scan. Thankfully, the nausea had alleviated a few weeks ago so she was feeling much better but certain smells did tend to make her stomach churn – that was why cheese, onions, Tom's aftershave and all alcohol was banned from their home.

"I couldn't sleep last night, I'm tired." Sam mumbled as she closed her eyes and rubbed her hands over her bump. Unfortunately for her, having a small frame wasn't particularly pregnancy-friendly as her pelvis was beginning to ache from the weight of carrying a new human being and as her abdomen expanded she looked like she had merely slipped a volleyball underneath her shirt.

"Let me guess, it was something to do with your supersensitive nose."

"Maybe." She replied sheepishly.

"What was it now? The bed sheets?"

"No but I do need to wash those again, they've lost their 'clean smell'." She replied quirkily.

"Then what was it?"

"Promise me you won't take it personally?"

"Personally? You mean you can't stand the smell of me?" He frowned.

"Not _you_ generally but it was a hot day yesterday and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to upset you but I can smell things that other people can't and–"

"Calm down, it's alright." Tom assured her gently. "I can start having a shower when I get home from work in the evenings if you want me to, as well as one in the morning."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Well I wouldn't do it for anyone else." He remarked.

"Thank you." Sam said gratefully as she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from the side.

"Sam Kent?" A young woman with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, wearing, lilac scrubs called out.

"Give me a hand up." Sam ordered quietly and Tom smirked as he pushed his hand into the small of her back to help her to her feet. "That's me." She said to the midwife.

"I'm Amelia, I'll be performing your scan today. If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you to the scanning suite."

* * *

 ** _30 Weeks_**

"Tom, your son is driving me up the wall and he's not even born yet." Sam complained from the bathroom. Tom switched the TV off so he could hear her better and went over to the door she was behind. He'd ran her a bath twenty minutes ago and added her favourite essential oil, tangerine oil, so that she could have a relaxing soak in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure on her spine and so that she could smell something pleasant for a while since so many everyday things made her scrunch up her nose.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm stuck in the bath. I tried getting up but I don't want to slip and my back is killing me."

"You want me to come in and help you?"

"Only if you promise me that you won't make any comments about beached whales."

"I won't." He grinned. He turned the handle and swung the door open to find her lying in the bath with the water mere centimetres from spilling over the edge of it but no matter how much water she put in, her bump was never fully submerged beneath it.

"I'm getting fed up of being pregnant." She grumbled as she pulled the plug out from between her feet so that the water could start draining away.

"You haven't got much longer to go." Tom informed her as she squeezed the excess water out of her long hair which had become even thicker than normal during her pregnancy.

"But I don't get why some people miss being pregnant or they have loads of kids because they love being pregnant."

"It's understandable that you're not enjoying it – you've had a tough pregnancy." Tom assured her. "Some women sail through pregnancies and experience very few symptoms, others can't stand it. It's just the way it is. It doesn't mean you won't love our son any less. If anything, it means you'll love him more because you've been through so much to have him." He explained as he held both of her hands as he pulled her to her feet in the bathtub. "You're beautiful. Stop trying to use your hands to cover yourself up." He chuckled as he grabbed her towel from the radiator and wrapped it around her.

"You don't have to lie to me, nobody could possibly find this attractive." She sighed as she used her hands to gesture her body whilst she kept the towel tightly around herself. "Not that there was much going for me before but–"

"Right, I'm fed up of you putting yourself down and the only way I can think of giving you evidence that I find you attractive is rather vulgar but I'm going to do it anyway." He remarked. "Last night, you and I had sex. Following me so far?"

"Where are you going with this?" She moaned as she stepped out of the bath and down onto the mat next to it.

"Let's just think of this in biological terms. In order for intercourse to be able to occur, the male has to be aroused, correct?"

"Tom." She groaned but she couldn't prevent herself from smiling.

"Therefore if I didn't find you attractive, wouldn't intercourse be incredibly difficult? If not, impossible?" He asked rhetorically. "I'd love you whether you were a supermodel or, as you put it, a 'beached whale'. Have some confidence in yourself."

"Y'know, if you want to be scientific about this hypothesis, we'd have to carry out an experiment to gather results. And possibly get some repeats too to make the results more accurate." Sam suggested innocently.

"And if I wanted to be scientific, I'd say that you're probably currently experiencing a surge in oestrogen." Tom grinned.

"Do you want to carry out an experiment or not?" She snapped.

"Of course I do." He smirked. "Come on. I'll sort out a lab coat and glasses for you." He winked as they exited the bathroom.

"I think we're taking this metaphor a little too far now."

"Agreed. But for the record, I think you'd look incredibly hot in a pair of glasses, a lab coat and nothing else."

"Not gonna happen."

* * *

 ** _40 Weeks_**

"Right, here's a list of things we're going to buy and do." Sam announced as she placed a sheet of paper in front of him whilst he was sat eating his breakfast. "I don't care whether there's not a single bit of evidence to back it up – one of these things has got to make me go into labour. I am _not_ going another fortnight before being induced and I am _not_ having a membrane sweep." She added sternly before she plonked herself down on the chair opposite him. Carrying another human being as well as several dozen pounds of extra fluid and tissue was exhausting and she didn't dare stand for a moment longer than she had to.

"It's your due date _today,_ at least wait until tomorrow before we try these things." He smirked.

"Tom, I can't do this anymore. If I have to spend one more night tossing and turning until the sun rises, I'm going to give myself a spinal and cut him out of there myself." She declared. "I can't sleep, I can't eat without feeling sick and I can't get comfortable no matter where I am or what I'm wearing or what I'm sitting on."

"Alright, we'll do whatever you want. But I doubt any of these will make a difference." Tom replied. "Although I must protest that with your heartburn and sensitive digestive system as it is at the moment, I'd strongly recommend you don't have a hot curry tonight." He said cautiously after glancing at the list.

"Needs must." Sam shrugged.

"You're not having spicy food _and_ taking castor oil on the same day." Tom said sternly once he'd read the list a little more. "I know you're desperate but that's just asking for an upset stomach."

"I didn't say I'm going to do them all today. Just the ones that are most likely to induce labour."

"Which are…?"

"A Vindaloo, sex and a drive around somewhere where there're loads of speed bumps and potholes."

"Sex? You really think that's a good idea with your back?"

"I'll just lie there, you can do all the work." She shrugged. "And I'm keeping most of my clothes on too." She added bluntly.

"Well, if that's what you want then we'll do it." Tom stated. " _Literally_." He joked.

* * *

 ** _40 Weeks + 1 Day_**

"Any news on Sam yet?" Fletch asked as he walked into the ED staffroom to grab a coffee for his break.

"No, nothing." Tom replied, sitting at the breakfast bar with his phone in his hands and his keys and wallet in his pocket, ready to shoot off at a moment's notice because whilst she was forced to be at home on maternity leave, he still had to work until she went into labour. "She's driving me up the wall with all the different things she wants to try to induce labour. We've got literally dozens of different types of tea, none of which she likes, and she wants to contact an acupuncture clinic who specialise in pregnant women."

"She really doesn't like being pregnant does she?" Fletch chuckled.

"No she doesn't." Tom sighed. "The thing is, I've always wanted more than one child but I'm worried she might not want to put herself through all that again." He admitted.

"Well there's no point in asking her now. She might say one thing now and completely change her mind when she's got her little boy in her arms–"

"That's her." Tom blurted out as his phone began ringing.

"Well answer it then!" Fletch ordered.

"Hello?... Mmhmm… right… okay stay there and I'll leave now… Yeah, I love you too. Everything's going to be okay, I promise. You just have to stay calm… Alright I'll be there soon. Bye." He quickly put his phone in his back pocket and then opened his locker so that he could grab his grey NHS hoodie to throw on over his scrubs. "She's crying by the sounds of it, and swearing, but she's in labour." Tom smirked as he slammed his locker shut.

"Good luck to the both of you." Fletch shouted as the expectant father ran out of the room. "You'll need it if Sam's as bad as I imagine she'll be."

 **I was going to write the birth scene for forty weeks but I didn't really have any ideas for that and I didn't want it to be too clichéd so hopefully the ending wasn't too bad… I was looking for inspiration for this story and I actually read several interesting stories about women begin repulsed by the smell of their partners so much that they had to avoid them for some of their pregnancy so that was what inspired the twenty weeks section! Please leave me a review and let me know what you think, and if you have any more ideas for my prompt story then please send them in. It could be just one word or a sentence or summary!**


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